


Leave it All Behind

by xpapergridx



Category: Hermitcraft, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Iskall's a great friend, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Stress' Amethyst, amethyst is evil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-25 17:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20915579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xpapergridx/pseuds/xpapergridx
Summary: Iskall finds out that Stress has put herself in quite the situation.[INCOMPLETE!]





	1. Stuck

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely adore the current amethyst arc Stress has going on and I can't wait to see what she'll do with it. I had a bit of trouble writing this one out, but I think that it turned out alright in the end. Also! Thank you so much for the support on the first fic, I couldn't be happier to hear you all liked it.
> 
> On to the story!

Iskall clutched the bouquet of red tulips close to his chest, careful not to let the petals blow away in the whipping winds of the sky. He admits, it’s been a while since he’s visited Stress’ base, and it’s a regrettable mistake on his part. He had been so occupied with the fine tunings of Sahara and his mycelium island base of doom that his original domain of ice had faded into the background--the convenience of visiting Stress at random with it as well.   


  
The icey hills approaching began to click in his brain, the surroundings gradually becoming more familiar as he progressed toward her base. At last, it emerged from the misty haze of the distance, standing grand as ever among the winter wonderland. But, something  _ very _ odd about her base was noticeable almost immediately.   


  
Jagged, sparkling jewels of amethyst crawled among every stone brick on her base. It spilled out from the right tower which had been blanketed in spirals of the gem. Magenta colored cows hovered around—floating! Alliums sprouted and bloomed from their backs, and their empty black eyes watched Iskall scope the base.

  
A pit of worry opened up in Iskall’s gut. Every fiber in his body screamed that something wasn’t right, that this was a little more than a design choice on Stress’ behalf. He swiftly landed on her base, speeding over to the right tower.

He knocked impatiently. “Stress?” he called, “Are you in there?”   
  


No reply. He grasped the steel knocker on the wooden door, sucking in air through clenched teeth as amethyst tore through his palm. Brushing the pain aside, he heaved the wooden door open from the firm grip of the amethyst that sealed it. As he did, the gems shattered as they crashed to the ground--and almost as if they were in pain--a shrill scream pierced through the air, sending Iskall into a desperate sprint.   


  
“Stress! Stress!” 

  
The screaming did not waver, and it became more cracked and painful   
as he ran through her base in clumsy panic. Amethyst crunched under his feet as he ran, and the numbers only grew. 

Iskall followed the screaming blindly, crashing down a completely gem infested staircase to trip and fall into a mini cavern of the purple jewel. It glimmered in an alluring, tantalizing sort of sense, trapping desks and brewing stands within them.

“Stop it! I-It—“

Iskall quickly scrambled up to his own two legs. “Stress?” he called.

Another quick shriek of pain shot through the room.

“You’re hurting it, Iskall!”

Iskall froze, confused--but panicking. Was he hurting the _amethyst_? He took a quick, deep breath of air. 

“Stress, I’m going to walk towards you very, very slowly.” 

There was no sign of protest from the opposite end apart from weak groans of pain, so he tried. 

Very gently, he placed one foot in front of the other, keeping as light as possible on his feet. He slowly inched his way to the back of the room, each step light as a feather. Just around the corner, a curled up, sobbing Stress was situated in the back, pink cardigan wrapped around her shoulders.

“Oh, Stress, how’d you get yourself into this?..”

Stress tilted her head to face him, glassy brown eyes spilling with tears. “‘M sorry, Iskall.. I didn’t mean t-to have it be so bad. I-it was an accident, I promise.”

She only managed to hold eye contact for so long before she tucked her head into her arms, sobbing and hiccuping into the sleeve of her cardigan. “I’m sorry.” she squeaked.

Iskall pursed his lips together, his heart dropping to his stomach just at the sight of his friend. He crouched down to her level, putting forth the bouquet of red tulips. Though it was flattened and missing petals, Stress reached out for it with shivering arms, clasping it between her ice coated hands and holding it close to her chest. “T-thank you.” she whispered.

Iskall smiled-- a little forced, but happy to see her appreciate the gift. He held his arms open, and without hesitation Stress jumped into them, wrapping her arms around his back.

“You’re the b-best friend I could’ve asked for, Iskall.”

“You too, Stress.”

They stayed in their shared embrace for a little bit, hugging onto each other like their life depended on it. It lasted right up until Iskall became fidgety and uncomfortable.

“Can you hear that?” He asked.

“That’s the amethyst.” Stress answered.

“You had to listen to them?”

Stress nodded. 

“Then what the crap are we waiting for? Let’s get out of here!”

The idea seemed almost surreal to Stress. Leave? She hadn’t done that in ages, which meant she hadn’t had silence in ages either. Every square inch of her mind was constantly flooded with the amethyst’s command. She couldn’t even remember the last time she heard her own voice in her head. Having that gone? Was it really possible?

She stared down at her bouquet, the shiny red petals, a gift from her friend. A color other than stupid purple.

Iskall pushed himself to stand—carefully this time—and held a hand out to Stress.

“Let’s go.” he said.

She stifled a smile and took his hand.

  
  
  



	2. A Little More Than A Headache

  
Stress awoke with a yawn, gripping the soft, fluffy comforter and pulling it towards her chest. She blinked a couple times, rubbing her eyes before squinting at the light coming through the window. The sun just began to peak over the Shopping District, and Stress was thoroughly confused as to why she was on the floor, supplied only with a thin mattress, comforter and pillow. Admittedly, it was pretty cozy—but she couldn’t help but notice the fatigue that weighed down on her body, as if she was being pushed into the ground by some unspeakable force. Not more than five seconds later did a splitting headache tear through her mind. She winced in pain, throwing up a hand to clutch at her temple.

Rolling over to her side to avoid looking at the sun, she was somewhat surprised to find the Sahara meeting room facing her. Three tall, golden pillars with photos of each of the Architechs stood near the entrance, and just in the corner of her eye she could spot a window showcasing a colourful arrangement of parrots happily chirping amongst themselves. She barely remembered arriving here last night. Actually, now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember _anything_ about where she went after escaping her base. She knew she was with Iskall, and that was about it.

There was a book left on the ground in front of her. Sliding her arm out from the comfort of the comforter, she flipped open to the first page, finding a letter with messy handwriting. Though, it clearly had time taken on it, evident by the thicker, curved lines of the words. She smiled just looking at it.

_Dear Stress,_

_I’m currently working on the storage system in Sahara. I wasn’t quite sure where to take you, and I’m really sorry if you slept uncomfortably. If you need me, just contact me with your communicator and I’ll be there._

_Love,_   
_Iskall_

  
She re-read the letter a couple of times, only stopping when the sharp click-clacks of expensive shoes could be heard approaching down the hall. Somewhat curious to see who it was, she inched herself over her pillow to peak behind the table.

Entering was none other than Mumbo, a tray of—what Stress hoped to be food— in hand.

“Stress, are you awake?”

“Yeess.” she drawled.

As he approached, the smell of cooked meat wafting through the room, and she could feel her mouth water at the smell. “Is that food?” Stress asked, voice hoarse and weak.

“Yep. Iskall asked me to make something for you, since he’s busy doing a couple adjustments to Sahara right now. I should probably warn you that I’m a terrible cook, and I’m sorry in advance if this meal sucks. I don’t even know why he thought I could cook.”

Stress giggled lightly, and she patted the spot in front of her pillow for Mumbo to leave the tray.

“You’re just going to eat it on the floor?” He asked.

She shrugged. “‘M too tired to move.”

“Alright, that’s fair.”

Mumbo obliged with Stress’ request, plopping the tray down in front of her. Beef and golden carrots, alongside a cup of tea. She sluggishly reached for her fork and knife, finding trouble gripping tight enough to actually cut the food in front of her.

“Do you want help with that?” he asked.

Stress nodded weakly. “Yes please.”

And so she watched as Mumbo—a man quite a few years younger than her—go about cutting her food up as if she was six. It was kind of funny, frankly, seeing her go incapable of helping herself. It was a little saddening, feeling weaker, having other people do things for her. For the time that she'd been with the amethyst, she had been doing almost everything herself, and it was a little weird being dependent on people again. When was the last time she ever had something like this happen to her?

He finished up cutting her food into precise fractions and neatly lay her fork and knife parallel to each other. “Sorry again if it’s bad.” he apologised, laughing awkwardly as he shuffled out of the room.

Stress laughed. Mumbo was a nice guy, a good friend of Iskall’s too. He was also an absolute spoon, a derp, if you will. But, he really did try, and she found that admirable about him.

Slowly, she pressed her fork down onto her beef, watching the silver prongs penetrate her food. At an equally slow place, she dragged it into her mouth, chewing down onto it. Admittedly, it was kind of dry, but it wasn’t terrible either. She continued this process, moving food into her mouth with all the speed of a snail.

She finished up her golden carrots (which tasted much better than the beef), drank her tea, and finally managed to get the strength to wobble up oh so carefully to stand with knocked knees. She was also pretty desperate to find a potion to settle her headache, even just for a little bit.

One thing that you could spot now that she was standing was the bouquet of tulips that Iskall gifted her, sitting in a glass vase in the centre of the meeting table. It managed to make her smile, and she carried that smile with her as she exited the meeting room.

Now, she had been in the behind the scenes of Sahara before, and was very familiar with the white and cyan concrete halls, but she never really took the time to look into some of the rooms. Apparently, there was a film room, right across from the meeting room. A big camera was angled towards an empty white desk that overlooked the shopping district. She was curious as to what they could’ve used that for. She also hoped that maybe she could mess around with it some time, just not now.

She continued on through the building, reaching the quartz staircase down to the courtyard. Carefully, she moved forward, going down the staircase one step at a time.

“Stress?”

Stress turned her head up, spotting Grian on the other side of the courtyard. He quickly ran into a swift glide with his elytra, fireworking his way over to her. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You really don’t look like you should be standing up right now.”

Stress nodded, “I know, I just wanted to get a healing potion or somethin’. This headache is just awful.”

Grian ‘ah’d, looking to the side as he pondered. “Impulse has got a potion stand right outside Sahara.” he stated. “I’ll get you one!”

Without another word, Grian swiftly departed over the building in a flurry of fireworks, returning just as quick with a healing potion to hand over.

She gently took it out of his hands, “Thank you, love.”

“No problem!”

Stress pulled the cork from the bottle, hearing it come off with a satisfying pop. A sickly, sweet smell from the bottle permeated the air as it opened, and gingerly, she lifted it to her lips and swallowed down the vibrant pink liquid.

The pain faded, a moment of cool peace coursing through her once again. Right until everything came back full force. Stress let out a hiss of pain, bringing her hand to her scalp in hopes to help it.

“It hurts…” she groaned.

Grian panicked, taking the bottle away from her and placing a hand on her back. “Oh dear.. Should I get Iskall?”

“M..hm.”

Without hesitation, Grian pulled up his communicator, quickly punching in something to Iskall. After he finished, he looped an arm under her arm and around her back, letting her lean on him for support. They waddled up the stairs, just climbing over the top as a whiz of frantic fireworks nearly crash landed in front of them.

“Stress! Are you alright?” he cried.

“Just a bad headache is all. ‘M good.”

Iskall’s face morphed into sheer worry, clearly not convinced by her claim. He glanced over to Grian, who shared the same look on his face. ”You should go back to bed. Try getting a little rest, okay?”

“I.. I’ll try.”

She was rested back down on her makeshift bed by both a concerned Grian and Iskall. She had her head tucked into her pillow as she gazed outside the window. Raising a hand to the glass, she could feel the warmth of the sun. It tingled a little more than usual, since normally the sun isn't supposed to make your skin tingle--But that was a different concern all on it's own. What really worried her was something else she noticed.

Squinting, she brought her hand closer to her face, gazing at the back of it. It was hard to see through the ice that coated her hands, but there it was. Unmistakably purple crystals underneath the ice, just beginning to poke out from the surface. This was not good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely going to be longer than two chapters. Everyone buckle up, we're going for a ride!

**Author's Note:**

> Edit (three hours later): May or may not do a chapter two (or more) for this fic because I’ve suddenly become really attached to the idea of keeping it running. I don’t know, but I’ll see where my inspiration takes me!


End file.
